


In Your Touch

by SaucyWench



Series: Cups and Roses [19]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 17:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13528743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench/pseuds/SaucyWench
Summary: A fill for the Gathering FiKi WinterFRE!Prompt 10 - Character A has been cursed. His touch hurts Character B.





	In Your Touch

Mitchell was at Mike’s bar, nursing a beer while the Johnson clan huddled around one of the tables.  He didn’t know what they were discussing, beyond ‘god business,’ but raised voices got his attention.  Mike stood and threw a dishcloth on the table with a curse while Olaf leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. 

“it’s really no problem,” Anders said with a smirk.  “I’ll go and talk – “

“No,” Mike and Axl chorused together.  Ty shook his head.

“You know, I do a lot for this family.  A little recognition would be nice.”  Anders hid the hurt under arrogance as he straightened his tie.

“All you do is ruin everything you touch,” Axl said.  At least, it was Axl speaking, but the vampire could sense the power of Odin lacing the words. 

Mitchell set his bottle down and stood up.  He hated this god shit.  Odin and Bragi didn’t get along any more than Axl and Anders did.  The gods sometimes forgot their vessels were fragile humans, and Mitchell wanted to forestall any argument before it turned physical.  No one noticed him but Mike, who watched with the sharp awareness of one predator to another.  Axl and Anders were too busy bickering, Ty rolled his eyes, and Olaf stole Ty’s drink. 

“Anders.”  Mike’s voice cut through the rising voices.  “Go home.  I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Anders cut a look at Mike before glancing around.  Everyone was staring at him with varying degrees of hostility.  He stood and shot the cuffs of his suit.  As he walked away, he tossed over his shoulder, “Fine.  Just send me a message and I’ll clean up your mess.  Again.”

“Go home, Anders.”  Odin spoke with Axl’s mouth.

Anders pressed his lips together and left the bar.  Mitchell waited and watched the other Johnsons for a long moment.  The only acknowledgement he got was a grave nod from Mike.  Satisfied that no one was going to try and escalate the disagreement, Mitchell followed Anders out. 

Anders was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.  Mitchell plucked it from his fingers and took a deep drag before handing it back.  They shared it back and forth in silence. 

Once it was gone and the butt disposed of, Mitchell asked, “Everything okay?”

“Aces.”  The sarcasm in Anders’ voice was thick.

Mitchell hadn’t expected any different, but he wanted to at least give Anders the opportunity to talk about it.  Maybe he’d try again tomorrow.  In the meantime, he said, “Let’s go home, then.  I’m tired.”

Anders nodded.  He didn’t say anything else, but he trailed behind Mitchell all the way home.

***

Mitchell stretched and yawned, blindly groping along the bed.  All he found was cool sheets, so he cracked an eye open to see he was alone.  He croaked, “Anders?”

“Hey, babe.”  Anders walked into the room carrying a mug.  He handed it to Mitchell as he sat on the side of the bed.  “Sorry it’s black, but the milk’s gone sour.  I’ll pick some up on the way home.”

It registered on Mitchell’s sleepy brain that Anders was already fully dressed.  He made a questioning noise as he slurped the coffee. 

Anders understood it and smiled as he stood up.  “I couldn’t sleep last night.  I finished up some of the paperwork, and I figured I’d make Dawn happy and get to the office on time for a change.”

Mitchell snorted and nodded as he set the mug on the night stand.  “That’ll make her happy.”

“Yeah, well, she better not get used to it.”  Anders waved as he left the room.  “I’ll see you tonight.”

***

Mitchell didn’t feel like cooking, so he ordered a pizza.  He was setting it on the table, along with plates and napkins, when Anders made it home. 

“That smells delicious.  I’m starving.  I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch.”  Anders kicked off his shoes and sat at the table. 

“Busy day?” Mitchell asked as he slid a slice of pizza on to Anders’ plate.

Anders nodded.  “I was foolish enough to get a sandwich from the corner store.  It wasn’t exactly what you could call fresh, but I didn’t have the time to get anything else.  I ended up not eating.”

Mitchell made a face.  “I didn’t know they even sold sandwiches.”

“Yes, well, now I know better.”  Anders picked up his pizza slice and blew across it to cool it before taking a bite.  He grimaced and spit the bite into his napkin.  “Does that taste right to you?”

Mitchell chewed the bite in his mouth and shrugged.  After he swallowed he said, “It’s fine to me.”

Anders set the pizza down and sighed.  “Whatever.  I’m going to take a shower.”

***

Mitchell woke while it was still dark outside.  A quick pat of the bed gave him nothing but empty sheets, so he rose and went in search of his boyfriend.  He idly scratched at his hip as he went to the living room. 

Anders was there, sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up to his chest.  He had a blanket wrapped around him so only his head was peeking out, and dark circles under his eyes. 

“You look like hell.  Did you even come to bed last night?”  Mitchell plopped on to the couch with a yawn. 

Anders didn’t answer.  Instead he murmured, “Something’s wrong.”

Anders’ demeanor had Mitchell wide awake faster than any pot of coffee.  “Babe?”

“Look.”  Anders poked a hand out and waved at the coffee table. 

There was a plate with a moldy piece of bread, a dried-up wedge of cheese, and some shriveled thing that might have been a peach at some point in the far past.  Beside it was a glass full of curdled milk. 

“Where did that come from?”  Mitchell reached for the glass with a grimace. 

“Don’t touch it.”  Anders grabbed Mitchell’s wrist. 

Mitchell hissed in pain and jerked away.  Upon inspection, there was a bruise darkening in the shape of Anders’ fingers.  He didn’t bruise easily, so there was no way the light grip should mark him like that.  “What the hell?”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”  Anders tucked his hand back under the blanket. 

“What happened?  I just bought that milk.  The bread was fine yesterday.”  Mitchell wracked his brain.  Vampire senses would have been able to smell if food was rotting in the house, but he had not noticed a thing over the past few days. 

“It’s me.” 

Mitchell looked at Anders in confusion.  “What?”

Anders sank deeper into the blanket.  “I ruin everything I touch.”

It took a moment for Mitchell to remember.  When he did, he felt his eyes flash to black and his fangs dropped.  He growled, “Axl.”

Anders nodded. 

“Call him.  Right now.”

“I doubt he’s awake.” 

It was a struggle when he was this angry, but Mitchell retracted his fangs.  “Then leave a message.”

Anders shrugged, but wormed a hand out from under the blanket and reached for his phone.  When he touched it, there was a sharp crack and the screen broke.  Anders pulled his hand back with a defeated sigh. 

“I got it.”  Mitchell rose and went to the bedroom.  He grabbed his phone, but took a second to get his temper under control.  Once he managed to get his eyes back to human, he returned to the living room.  He sat next to Anders and swiftly sent a text to all the Johnsons.  “There.  We’re meeting at the bar for lunch.”

“If they bother to show up,” Anders muttered.

Mitchell silently vowed they would be there, even if he had to drag them there kicking and screaming.

***

Of course, Mike was the only one at the bar when they arrived. 

Anders had gotten worse since that morning.  He’d been unable to eat or drink anything but plain water, and was wearing a shirt with a ripped seam.  He was getting an unhealthy pallor that Mitchell did not care for one bit.  What if something started going wrong with the air?

Olaf walked in behind them, and announced, “Ty and Axl are on the way.  What’s so important?”  He accepted a beer and took a swig before looking at Anders.  “What happened to you?”

They ignored the question.  Mike set beers in front of Anders and Mitchell.  Anders stared morosely at his, while Mitchell chose not to pick his up.  With the mood he was in, he might shatter the bottle on accident. 

Axl and Ty arrived together, laughing as they tumbled in the door.  Hearing them joking around, sounding so carefree while Anders looked as if he was going to fall over any second, had Mitchell’s eyes flash black. 

Mitchell didn’t bother trying to disguise how pissed off he was.  He stood and turned to face Axl, head lowered and fists clenched.  Looking up from under his brows, he ground out, “Fix him.”

Everyone fell silent and froze in place.  Everyone was watching Mitchell except Anders, who huddled down on the stool.  Ty took a step closer and Mitchell’s attention snapped to him. 

Ty raised his hands, palm out.  “What’s wrong, Mitchell?”

Without looking away from Ty, Mitchell asked, “Do you have any bread, Mike?  Hand Anders a slice.”

They waited in silence for Mike to go upstairs, get the bread, and return.  Mike set a paper plate on the bar by Anders, took a slice of bread out, and set it on the plate. 

Mitchell looked over his shoulder before he moved aside.  His instincts were screaming not to let anyone near Anders, but they needed to see this.  He told Anders, “Show them.”

Anders sighed before straightening on the stool.  He waited for Ty and Axl to get closer before he laid a fingertip on a corner of the pristine white bread. 

Nothing happened for a second, but then a dark spot appeared below Anders’ finger.  He pulled his hand back, but mold spread across the surface and down one side of the bread.  It gained speed, blooming into different shades of grey and green, until the bread was covered in it. 

Venom dripped from Mitchell’s voice when he suggested, “Why don’t you shake your brother’s hand, Anders?”

“Mitch,” Anders chided and shook his head. 

“What is that?” Axl asked.  He took a step towards the bar.

Mitchell rounded on him.  “You.  You did this.  He can’t eat.  He can’t drink.  You caused it.  Now fix him!”

“I didn’t do it,” Axl protested. 

A low snarl ripped through the room and Mitchell’s fangs dropped.  Axl took a step back, away from Mitchell and towards the door.  If Axl tried to run right now, there was no way Mitchell could not give chase.  That would end badly for everyone.

Anders started to reach out but thought better of it.  Instead he murmured Mitchell’s name again.  Mitchell stopped growling. 

Olaf ignored the drama and said, “Mitchell’s right.  You should shake your brother’s hand.”

Exclamations came from everyone but Mitchell, who kept watching Axl. 

“What if Axl’s hand rots off?” Mike asked. 

“It won’t.”  Olaf sounded certain when he told Axl, “You cursed him.  You must lift it.  Tell him you were wrong, shake his hand, and break the curse.”

“At least he doesn’t have to kiss me,” Anders muttered.  Everyone ignored him. 

“What if I don’t?”  Axl crossed his arms, looking like a petulant child despite his height.

Olaf shrugged.  “Anders will die.”

“And so will you,” Mitchell promised. 

“Christ, Axl, just do it already so Anders can take Mitchell home before this turns into a blood bath,” Mike said.  Ty nodded agreement. 

Axl rolled his eyes but stepped forward and held out his hand.  He sulked and said, “Fine.  I guess you don’t ruin everything you touch.”

Mitchell clenched his fists tighter to resist the urge to knock the pout right off Axl’s face. 

Anders looked at Axl’s outstretched hand for a moment before reaching for it.  He and Axl both grimaced when he made contact, but nothing happened. 

Axl looked at Olaf and asked, “Is that all?”

Before Olaf could reply, Mitchell told Mike, “Give him more bread.”

Mike nodded and fished out another slice.  Everyone leaned forward and watched as Anders laid a finger on it.  Nothing happened.  Anders lifted his finger and, aside from a small pressure dent, the bread was unchanged. 

Mitchell retracted his fangs.  “Take a swallow of your beer.”

Anders, whose complexion was returning to a normal shade, nodded and took a long drink from the bottle in front of him.  He set it back down and smiled.  “it’s perfect.”

Mitchell grabbed Anders’ hand.  When nothing happened, he blinked and his eyes returned to normal.  He leaned in and rested his forehead on Anders’ shoulder and murmured, “Thank Christ.”

“Well, thank some deity, in any case,” Axl muttered. 

“I need to be some place where your family is not,” Mitchell said without lifting his head, “before someone gets hurt.”

“Yeah, let’s go home.”  Anders stood and stretched.  “I’m starving, and I need a nap.”

Mitchell nodded and followed Anders.  He paused in the door and turned around.  Addressing the Johnsons in general, he said, “Don’t call with any sort of family thing for a few days.”

They nodded.  Satisfied, Mitchell took his boyfriend home. 

 


End file.
